


Help Me Forget

by Agent27



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: F/M, Griefsex, Porn with Feelings, sweet and tender
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-08 02:09:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8826193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agent27/pseuds/Agent27
Summary: Miranda seeks out Marie one night to quiet the nightmares.





	

Screams. Blood, darkness, deaths she could’ve prevented but she _wasn’t good enough_ -

Miranda woke from her nightmare with a gasp, covers an impossible snarl around her legs and nightgown soaked with sweat. She sat up abruptly and seized her pillow to bury her face in it.

Last month’s mission had not gone well, to say the least. Two level ones and a level two had ambushed what was supposed to be a simple retrieval, and all of their Finders had died. She hadn’t been able to save even one of them, God rest their souls, and on top of all the recent stress and death… it was too much.

Slowly her shaking began to abate, and she felt less like she was on the edge of tears, but she knew from too much experience that she wouldn’t go back to sleep for hours. If she could sleep again at all.

Her mind drifted to Marie without her conscious decision- his warm strength, how comforting his arms were around her, his gentle touch. Lately they’d been courting, much to the amusement of the Order, and she badly wanted him close right now. But it was late to go and visit him. She shouldn’t. People would talk…

Her mind thrust one of her first conversations with Klaud Nyne at her. The blonde woman had pulled her aside and laid down some truths about the Order that were best heard from another woman.

“We’re all too busy staying alive to care who’s in whose bed.” Klaud had snapped, to her disbelief. “After a battle, soldiers want comfort however they can find it. The Vatican can go fuck themselves if they don’t like it.”

She hadn’t really believed it until she’d seen Allen walking out of Kanda’s room one morning with a sheepish smile and a stiff walk. The other exorcists had teased both of them mercilessly but nothing official had happened.

Surely, if no one cared, it would be alright to go seek him out? Just for a hug, truly.

She wondered if she was even fooling herself.

Moving slowly, as if in a fog, she shuffled off the bed and into her houseshoes, then tied her housecoat around her waist and slipped into the hallway. She attempted to finger-comb her hair as she walked but gave it up as she approached Marie’s door. She could faintly hear soft, melancholic music being played inside. At least she wasn’t waking him up…

Before she could lose her nerve, she knocked on his door. The music didn’t stop.

“Come in, Miranda.” Her heart briefly jumped and she sheepishly calmed herself. It was Marie, of course he knew who was outside his door.

He nodded to her without losing his rhythm as she entered his quarters. After only a moment’s hesitation she locked the door behind her and watched the corner of his mouth quirk up.

“Nightmare?” He asked as she daringly settled onto the bed beside him. She tucked her knees to her chest.

“Yes.” she whispered, burying her face in her arms. The music shifted to something softer, sweeter; almost a lullaby, but not quite. “About that mission in Moscow.” He _hmm_ ed softly.

“There was nothing you could have done, sweetheart.” He murmured, and her heart clenched at the endearment. How could he call her _sweetheart_ when she had the blood of their Finders on her hands and she couldn’t even save _one_ of them-

The music ended and trailed into silence. Miranda caught the brief flash of Marie deactivating his Innocence, and then his strong arm was wrapping around her shoulders. She leaned into him gratefully as he pulled her shaking body close.

“Shh, shh, Miranda, darling.” He whispered, stroking her messy hair. “I’ll tell you this until you believe me, but you’re doing your absolute best and that’s more than enough. No one could have saved them, the fact that you _tried_ puts you above half of the other Exorcists here.” She buried her head in his shoulder, breath coming short and fast. He continued in that vein, repeating reassurances and endearments into her ear for quite some time. Eventually she calmed, feeling wrung out and exhausted.

He rested his chin on her head.

“Feeling better?” He murmured. She made a brief affirmative noise before nuzzling into his throat. She heard his intake of breath and it sent an entirely different shiver down her spine.

“Marie?” She whispered, summoning up her courage. He swallowed hard before he answered.

“Yes?”

“… Do you want to forget with me? Just for a little while.” He hesitated before he ran gentle calloused fingers down her spine.

“Are you sure?” Reaching up to curl both hands on his broad shoulders, she kissed his jawline.

“Please.”

He groaned softly- a noise of surrender and his own grief- and kissed her. She could feel the desperation on both sides, her hand coming up to the back of his neck, his hand cradling her face. When they broke to breathe he picked her up by the waist (she squeaked) and settled her in his lap, straddling him on her knees.

She was sure he could feel her blush on his skin, her face was so hot. She kissed him again to distract herself as he untied her house robe and she toed off her slippers. Every brush of his large, warm fingers sent a jolt of sensation downwards to settle in her groin, building into a tight ball of heat that wouldn’t go away.

They broke away from the kiss briefly and Miranda took the time to steel herself before sliding her hands under his nightshirt and trying to pull it up. It got stuck halfway, and Miranda would have wilted at Marie’s chuckle if it weren’t for how breathless he sounded.

“It buttons, dear heart.” He whispered, guiding her fingers to the little wooden circles. The blush on her face wasn’t from arousal this time.

That changed when Marie groaned as she put her hands on his bare chest for the first time. His hands tightened on her hips as she splayed her fingers out, marveling at the warm muscle and scarred skin. He briefly took his hands off her to shrug out of the shirt and she inhaled sharply. He was warm and solid and made her feel so small and safe, and for a moment emotion overwhelmed her. She hugged him tight and buried her face in his neck to try and quiet her ragged breathing.

“Miranda?” His voice was soft, careful. “Are you alright?” She nodded, cursing her own shyness.

“Yes, I’m fine, it’s just… a lot.” His chuckle was strained as she shifted closer- oh. Unless she was very mistaken, the hard warmth between her legs showed her _exactly_ how much it was. His hands shifted from her hips to her waist and gently petted her back as he nuzzled her hair.

“Tell me when you’re ready.” He murmured, and she felt her heart swell with gratitude.

_You’re better than I deserve_ , she thought but didn’t say. He would only argue.

After a moment she thought she had her emotions under control and sat back up purposefully.

“Go ahead.” She said with as much steadiness as she could force into her voice. His hands slowly swept down to her hips, and then lower until they brushed her thighs; she inhaled sharply as he stroked the bare skin where her nightgown had ridden up. He slowly pushed it up higher, reverently touching the bare skin of her hips, her waist, just skirting the edges of her breasts until she had to lift her arms to let him take it off.

“Beautiful.” He murmured as she shivered in just her underwear. His hands were warm, and her breath squeaked out of her when he cupped her breasts. She shook in his arms, bracing herself on his broad shoulders. It never felt this intense when she touched her own breasts, she thought wildly as he caressed a nipple and shocks ran down her spine. She arched into the touch.

A moan ripped out of her when he bent down to gently suckle the little peak.

Blushing, embarrassed, she brought her hand up to her mouth to muffle herself and Marie made a displeased noise.

“Don’t do that. You sound beautiful.” He whispered, gently catching her wrist and bringing it down. She almost choked when he ever-so-lightly nibbled at sensitive flesh, spreading her legs wider without thought.

She wanted to touch him, too…

She nearly whined when he took his mouth off her breasts.

“Can I lay you down?” He whispered, his voice rough and husky. She gasped a _yes_ and then his hands were on her waist again, lifting her as if she were no heavier than a feather to lay on his bed, surrounded by his scent. She shuddered when he knelt over her, his knees and arms building a fortress of safety and warmth around her.

She ran her hands over his chest and sides just to feel him shudder before letting them drift downwards. He grunted as she skimmed over his hips- his sleep pants were riding low with all their shifting around and were probably only held on by his erection, honestly.

“Please don’t tease, darling.” He whispered with a chuckle in his throat. She sucked in a breath before tucking slender fingers under his waistband and tentatively running her fingers along his erection. He groaned and dropped his head into the crook of her shoulder, and an unfamiliar sensation of _control_ rushed over her.

If she could choose one moment of time to savor forever, she’d pick this; a powerful man she deeply cared for groaning and trembling under her hands, warm and safe and shuddering with her own arousal.

His mouth latched onto her neck when she wrapped her hand around him and she gasped as he sucked. Mentally she thanked Johnny for designing her uniform with a high neck- it’d hide the marks tomorrow.

He let her continue her shy explorations for a minute longer, muffling his groans into her neck and littering her with love bites. Finally he reached down and pulled her hand away.

“I won’t last if you keep doing that.” He admitted as he slid his pants fully off, and she laughed a little breathlessly.

“Sorry.” He kissed her until she was shifting restlessly under him and spread her legs with his knees.

“Don’t you dare apologize.” He rumbled, and whatever response she would’ve made (another apology, most likely) was lost as he gently swept his fingers over the apex of her legs. She hadn’t been aware of how _wet_ she was until she felt his fingers slide over the fabric of her underwear; her whimper and his groan blended beautifully.

She wrapped one leg around him, squirming to get closer to that touch, gasping. He gentled her with careful strokes.

“Shh, easy sweetheart. We have time.” He whispered against her lips. He only slipped inside her underclothes when she stopped jerking at his every touch, and his fingers against her bare skin made her buck into him.

“Please, Marie-“ She gasped, glad she kept her nails short so she wouldn’t gouge his back. When he slid one long, thick finger inside her she couldn’t stop herself from leaving a love bite of her own.

Groaning, whispering encouragements and curses into her ear, Marie worked her over. She writhed against him, muffling her cries into his neck when his thumb found her clit. Another finger, and she cried out loudly; it burned in the best way and she could feel overwhelmed tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

Everything boiled down to his fingers in her and on her, searching out all her sweet spots until she saw spots herself, coiling tighter and tighter until something _broke_ within her and she clung to him, all but sobbing as aftershocks wracked her and Marie _kept moving_ , gentling her through it but not letting her come all the way down, either.

She whimpered as her tense muscles unclenched and she collapsed back to the mattress, opening her screwed-shut eyes to see Marie’s contented and wondering expression.

“Gorgeous.” He whispered, kissing her soundly and gently shifting his fingers to make her jolt again. He was kind enough to avoid her clit, which was hypersensitive still, but his thumb shifted up and pressed just above it and that was very nearly as good. It was certainly enough to make her whimper before he withdrew his fingers, leaving her open and empty and still _wanting._

He paused with his thumbs hooked into the waistband of her underwear.

“I should’ve thought of this earlier… Do you have any sort of protection?” it was kind of encouraging that he could still make her cheeks flame, Miranda thought. And sweet.

“Mm-hm. The moment I got here the doctor started giving me this medicine to take. It keeps us women from getting with child; they can’t afford to have exorcists out of duty, they said.” Marie chuckled and relaxed.

“Good. One less thing to worry about.” He whispered as he guided her panties down her legs. A brief kiss to one of her hips (she shivered) and he was hovering over her again, resting his forehead against hers.

“Do you think you’re ready for me?” He asked, combing through her hair with his clean hand. She took a deep breath and stroked down his side.

“As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.” She whispered, and he smiled.

“Come here. It’ll be easier for you this way.” He murmured, and flipped them over so she was straddling his hips. Blushing, she braced her hands on his chest, feeling the hot warmth of his arousal so close to where she wanted it. He took in a sharp breath and gently guided her into place.

“Go down at your own pace, sweetheart. Don’t let me hurt you.” He cautioned. Steeling her courage and trying to relax at the same time, Miranda held her breath and held his head to her entrance before starting to lower herself down.

The way his head slammed back to the mattress and all the breath rushed out of his lungs was _extremely_ gratifying. Unfortunately, she couldn’t exactly appreciate it like she wanted; all her focus was on how he stretched her even wider than his fingers, hot and _throbbing_ inside her. She hissed and sunk down a little further, then a little more, arching backwards to make him rub against the spots that felt the best, until with a start she felt his thighs meet hers and she settled fully on him.

His hands gripped her hips hard when she tried to shift, and his voice was rough as sandpaper.

“Please. Stay still for a moment.” He gasped, clenching and unclenching his hands. “I’m only human.” They both stilled until their panting slowed and everything seemed a little less urgent, less immediate.

When Marie thrusted his hips just lightly, testing the waters, Miranda gasped and braced herself on his chest.

“Did that hurt?” Marie rasped, stopping immediately. Miranda emphatically shook her head.

“No, please, do it again.” She gasped. The look on his face was more than she could handle and she let her head drop as he moved again. When he gently lifted her off his cock and pulled her back down, steady and gentle, they both groaned.

It took them only a moment to establish a rhythm after that, not fast or slow but steady, touching all the best places and intensely satisfying. When he slicked two fingers and then pressed them against her clit she yelped and arched back hard, clenching down on him; it was apparently enough to nearly drive him mad.

Before she knew exactly what was happening he had flipped her on her back and was back in her, his rhythm faster and harder and _exactly_ what she needed. She clung to him as he took her, one strong hand playing with her clit and her legs wrapped around his waist to hold him there.

She came again with a cry and Marie was right behind her, groaning into her mouth as his hips stuttered and stilled.

It took a few moments for them to stop panting and recover the motivation to move. Marie withdrew, making them both groan, then tumbled to his side and pulled her into his chest. She wrapped an arm around him and snuggled in close. She couldn’t help the way she rubbed her legs together, reveling in the slickness and lingering sensation.

“Did I hurt you?” Marie eventually said, breaking the content silence. Miranda shook her head.

“No, you were wonderful.” She murmured and skimmed a hand over his chest. “Was I… alright?” He made an incredulous noise and pulled her even closer, nuzzling her sweaty hair.

“Oh, Miranda,” he whispered, his tone reverent, “you were _magnificent._ ” She blushed furiously and wriggled until he loosened his grip, but only to lay her head on his chest. The beat of his heart was incredibly soothing. Her eyes began to drift closed.

“Go to sleep, darling.” He whispered, stroking her hair. “Morning will come soon enough.”

* * *

The morning did come far too soon for Miranda’s liking; she woke before Marie, pleasantly sore all over and sticky between her legs. When she tried to wriggle out of bed she woke Marie.

“Good morning.” He said, almost shyly; she smiled and leaned forward to kiss him.

“Good morning. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you, but I thought I should probably get moving…”

He hummed softly in agreement.

“I suppose so. Do you want me to walk you back to your rooms?” Despite everything they’d done last night, that little kindness still made her blush.

“No, I’ll be alright, but… meet me for breakfast?” His smile was like the sunrise as he held her hand.

“Of course.” She gathered her discarded nightclothes and began to dress, shuffling towards the door.

“Oh, and, Miranda?” She turned back to blink at his quiet smile.

“Yes?”

“You’re wonderful, darling. Don’t ever forget that.”

Blushing furiously she escaped back to her rooms… but that glow of warmth in her chest stayed with her.

She hoped it always would.

**Author's Note:**

> Cliche title is cliche. I don't care. 
> 
> (Also I mostly only go for m/m stuff, why the heck is the first smut I actually write to the end m/f smh)


End file.
